The Witch smiles an eerie smile.
"I'm afraid you just aren't pretty enough to be the girl in this story, after all, look at how much effort she must put into her own appearance..."
It feels like a stab to your ego with a serrated knife. Sure you've been a bit of a tomboy in the past, but you still feel like you're somewhat attractive. Hearing her say that though throws you off balance, you take out a compact and dust your face with makeup.
Little do you know that this is all the witch's doing, you didn't even HAVE a compact before and the blow to your ego is entirely her doing, the more you dust onto your face the more it feels good and natural.
By the time you finish your eyelids have thick and colorful eyeshadow, your lips are heavily glossed and embalmed with lipstick, they feel almost wet to the touch. Your fingernails have grown long, brightly colored and ornate as it feels as if years have gone into making them look gorgeous. You subconsciously buff them to make them shine as the witch grins at her work. You feel gorgeous but the more effort you put into yourself the more you become superficial and feel like you could forgo things like intellect. Or not, since at the moment you feel perfect.
"Very good my pretty, now you're ready to pursue your kingdom..."
As you look in your compact to see if you missed any spots, you think to yourself about your next course of action.
You get yourself transported into the book to rule.
You could try to rule the real world.
You could try and fail to rule the real world and end up somewhere like a "gentleman's club" or some other form of a fall from grace that would appreciate shallow beauty.
Or try something else.